


25. Humiliation

by givemesomewings



Series: Whumptober 2019 [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Actually I am a little sorry, Actually I’m very sorry, Angst, But only a little, Cinnamon Roll, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, More Cinnamon Roll torture, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 04:40:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21155765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemesomewings/pseuds/givemesomewings
Summary: “Whatever’s inside of us,” Matt said moving his hand in small circles over Castle’s heart, “this could just be...” he paused, searching for the right words, “an acknowledgement of that. Of who we are.”





	25. Humiliation

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Whumptober 2019 prompt, “Humiliation” and (mostly) beta’d by the amazing simplykayley. It was loosely inspired by the songs “Shame” & “Just Like Me” by Summer Walker. I strongly suggest listening to them when reading this fic.

Frank pulled the needle through Matt’s side, methodically looping the thread across the deep gash in his torso. Fuck, Matt had really done it this time. Stick had snuck up on him, disrupting not just his nightly patrol, but the life Matt had made for himself after Stick had left him totally and completely alone all those years ago.

Stick had been babbling on about his “war”, and this time Matt had refused to listen. He didn’t want to hear any more of the old man’s delusions. Stick had stolen what was left of his childhood, and so much of his humanity, in the name of his imaginary war, and Matt had had enough.

He’d had it out with the old man and won. They’d duked it out across a Manhattan rooftop and Matt had lived to tell the tale, but he’d walked away from it a little worse for wear. He was stumbling towards his apartment when Castle found him.

He’d bullied Matt onto his couch, ignoring Matt’s complaints that he was “fine” and didn’t need his help.

Frank rifled through Matt’s bathroom until he found his first aid supplies.

“I’m fine, Castle,” Matt said shallowly, for the umpteenth time. “You don’t need to-“

“Can it, Red,” Frank said gruffly, pulling the needle through the ugly wound in Matt’s side. Stick had gotten him good.

“I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me here, so how about you sit still and shut the fuck up so I can finish up, yeah?” Frank huffed. He was looming over Matt in a way that would’ve frightened anyone else half to death, but only brought Matt a feeling of safety and comfort.

Matt huffed in frustration, if only halfheartedly. He lay still as Frank stitched up the hole in his side.

Frank knew better than to ask what Matt was doing fighting some old man in the middle of the night. Matt had already told him briefly about who Stick was during one of their many heart-to-heart moments after long nights of bringing bad guys to justice. It had been especially tough for Matt, recounting the more difficult memories of his life with Stick, but Frank had held him as he teared up and finished saying what he needed to say. Matt would be eternally grateful for the strong and unyielding presence that was Frank Castle, expressly in his moments of weakness.

An especially rough pull offset the warm feeling building in Matt’s chest as Frank ripped the thread he was using and began to tie it off in a small knot.

“Shh, shh,” Frank said when Matt hissed at the sensation. “I got you, Red. We’re almost finished.”

Frank began to disinfect his handiwork with some spray that stung as it hit Matt’s skin. Frank held onto Matt, patted the skin around Matt’s stitches dry, taking special care to make sure he didn’t make Matt too uncomfortable.

“See,” Frank mumbled, reassuringly, “all done.”

He lingered for a few seconds over Matt’s body, Matt could feel his eyes roam over him. The tension between them almost palpable.

Frank sighed as he stood, still looking down at Matt. “I’ve done about as much as I could do here. Try to take it easy, Red.”

As Frank started his walk toward the rooftop exit, Matt reached up and grabbed his wrist. He held on tightly.

“Hang on, Frank,” Matt said, tasting the copper in the air. “You’re bleeding.”

Frank huffed in response. “It’s nothing, Red. A flesh wound.”

Matt held on still. “Let me look at it.”

Frank sat down heavily by Matt’s feet, at the other end of the couch. Matt rose slowly, trying not to undo Castle’s hard work. He repositioned himself so he was sitting on his knees, facing Frank.

He unclipped Frank’s kevlar, the painted vest dropped to the floor as quickly as Matt could manage. He took his time rolling up Frank’s shirt, though, pushing the fabric over his thick neck, his muscled arms.

After that was done, Matt moved his hand across the small cut on Frank’s side. Frank was right, it wasn’t that serious, and it didn’t require Matt’s attention. But Matt continued to sweep his fingers across Frank’s torso, anyway.

Matt’s fingers moved dangerously low, skimming the waist of Frank’s pants as he “examined” the wound. He heard Castle’s heartbeat pick up, using that as an encouragement to keep going. As his fingers bumped Frank’s belt buckle for the second time, Castle grunted and snatched both of Matt’s wrists in one of his hands.

They breathed heavily in each other’s faces, Frank’s eyes locking onto Matt’s unfocused ones.

“What are you doing, Red?” Frank asked every word forced out over the course of one long exhale.

Matt took in a quiet breath, swallowed slowly before he answered, his nervousness and arousal blending together to create a heady cocktail of energy that he couldn’t quite contain. “What does it look like, Frank?”

Frank grunted angrily before flinging Matt’s hands away from him.

“Get off me, Red,” Frank said before he stood up from the couch.

“What’s wrong, Castle?” Matt asked, tightly. He was simmering with rage. This conversation had been coming for a while.

He wanted to know why Frank always ran away from him. Why he acted as if that night had never happened. Like Frank had never wrapped his strong, calloused fingers around Matt’s throat, his grip familiar, yet so different in ways that Matt didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget. Like Matt had never smiled at him. A devil’s smile, blood in his teeth and mischief in his eyes. Like those eyes hadn’t rolled backward in his head, his strong legs wrapped around Frank’s trim waist, Frank supporting Matt’s weight as he pushed into him, over and over. As if all of this hadn’t taken place on a rooftop overlooking Matt’s city, the same place Castle had rescued him from tonight. “Still afraid to ask for what you want? Even after everything that’s happened between us?”

Matt smirked as he hurled the thinly veiled accusations disguised as questions at Frank. If he wasn’t getting fucked tonight, he could at least get a fight out of Castle.

Frank gave nothing away as he stared down at Matt. He sighed and rolled his eyes internally before answering.

“Oh really, Altar boy?” Frank scoffed, emphasizing the last two words of his question. “You think I’m the one with the problem?”

Matt rolled his sightless eyes outwardly, hoping the gesture would irritate Castle as much as Frank’s question had him. “You know I’m not afraid of this, Frank. You’re the one who-“

“Oh, yeah?” Frank rounded on Matt. “And what is this, Red, huh?”

Frank fumed over Matt’s kneeling form on the couch. Matt tilted his head up at him, his expression defiant as Frank spoke.

“You think, what? That I’m- that I’m your boyfriend, huh?” Frank’s eyes darted across Matt’s torso as he spoke. He laughed derisively.

“That we’re gonna ‘be together’?” Frank asked. “That what you think, Red?”

Matt stood up off the couch, a hand pressed to his side. He refused to be put off by Castle’s barbs. Matt didn’t want avoidance of the issue at hand, he wanted the truth.

“And why can’t we, Frank?” Matt said. He talked over Castle as he waved his hands in Matt’s direction and muttered an “Oh, please.”

“Frank, I’m under no delusions that I’m your ‘boyfriend’,” Matt said, the word rolling clumsily off his tongue, leaving a strange taste in his mouth. “I just want to know why we can’t be... something. Why do you act like there’s nothing between us?”

Frank refused to look at Matt, staring right through him. “Because there is nothing between us.”

As soon as the sentence left Frank’s mouth, Matt was in his space.

“Bullshit, Frank!” he seethed. “As much as you want to deny it, I know you.” When Frank scoffed, Matt pushed on. “I do, Frank. And I know how badly you want to deny it, because I used to want to deny it, too,” Matt panted.

He stepped closer to Castle. Placed both his hands onto Frank’s chest as he spoke.

“You and I, we’re two sides of the same coin,” Matt said.

“Jesus Christ,” Frank said, dismissively. He went to turn away from Matt, but Matt gripped his shoulders and held him in place.

“You said it yourself, Castle. That I’m one bad day away from being you.” Frank apparently had nothing to say to that. Silence stretched out between the two of them briefly before Matt continued, feeling the weight of the conversation shift in his favor.

“The two of us, we’re... different. We’re not like anybody else,” Matt said. “We’re both damaged in ways that nobody else could relate to, and we’re both trying to cope with it in ways that nobody else could even begin to understand. And I don’t know exactly what we could be to each other. I’m not saying we need a house and a white picket fence, because that’s not what either of us want, but we could be... something.”

Matt panted several times, his hands moved back to their spot on Frank’s chest.

“Whatever’s inside of us,” Matt said moving his hand in small circles over Castle’s heart, “this could just be...” he paused, searching for the right words, “an acknowledgement of that. Of who we are.”

Matt punctuated his sentence by pushing up on his toes, slowly moving in for a kiss. Frank stood stock still as Matt leaned forward. He spoke just before their lips touched.

“So, that’s what you think we’re doing, huh?” Castle said. Matt had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t taken time to really parse how Castle was feeling. He assumed that because Castle hadn’t left, he had wanted to hear Matt out. But apparently he had been shocked into anger by Matt’s words, his muscles slowly coiling before springing into action.

“You think we’re... ‘celebrating who we are’?” Castle asked, incredulous. “That we’re the same?” He took a deep breath before looking down at Matt’s hands, at his stupidly hopeful face. “You think you could walk a mile in my fucking shoes, Murdock?” Castle sneered.

Matt sighed, slowly lowering himself back to his normal height. His hands slowly leaving Frank’s chest and dropping back to his sides. “That’s not what this is about, Castle.”

“That’s what everything’s about!” Castle roared. “The only reason I’m out on those streets every night is because there is nothing else left for me in this world. Nothing!” Castle finished his tirade with a pointed finger in Matt’s face. “You... You have a life here, Red. You have people that love you, that care about you. You’ve made something out of yourself,” Castle said.

“You help people, every day that you walk into that shitty office of yours, you help people,” Castle said. “You have so much... so much life left, Matt. But you just- you throw it away so you can, what? Play cops and robbers in that stupid costume of yours every night?”

Matt stared stubbornly in his direction but said nothing as Frank continued, silently planning his response.

“If I had my family, Red. I would never give that shit up, not for anything,” Castle said. “And I’m not saying you don’t have a reason to be out there every night, that you haven’t lost anything. Red, I know your old man left you, and that’s a shitty thing that happened to you. And what with all that shit that happened between you and that girl of yours...”

Matt’s thoughts were interrupted at the mention of his father. And Elektra... that was a low blow.

Frank reached out to him, seeing him tense at the reminder of the things that had shaped Daredevil into the man he was.

He wanted to cup Matt’s face, soothe the sting of his words with a gentle touch instead of the punches he usually gave him. But now wasn’t the time. Maybe there never would be a time for that again.

“But you’re not out there every night because you have to be, you’re out there because you want to be.”

Castle stared at Matt, the look on his face one he couldn’t quite place. Something between insulted and... seen? Like he’d been found out, caught in the act.

“That’s the difference. We’re not the same, Red.”

Matt shook his head and looked up at Castle. Now, anger was clearly written across his face.

“Even if you knew what you were talking about, Castle, I heard your heartbeat,” Matt said. “I hear it every time we get close to each other. If you won’t acknowledge anything else, I at least know that you want me.”

He slowly backed Frank against the wall as he spoke. He was hurt, but he was also feeling triumphant. Something akin to what he felt in the courtroom when he’d trapped a witness into finally acknowledging what he knew to be true all along and successfully distracting him from something that could tear his entire case apart.

Castle looked him up and down in what was something only a degree or two below complete contempt.

“You think just because I fucked you, once,” Castle said, holding up a single finger, “that I can barely control myself around you?” he laughed. “I’m just waiting for another chance to take the irresistible Red to bed, huh?”

Matt stayed in Frank’s space, still refusing to back down. “Aren’t you?”

Castle carefully said nothing. He just looked down at Matt, now wearing that signature smirk of his.

“If it’s not true, just say it.” The silence stretched on and Matt chuckled. He wrapped his arms around Frank’s neck and pressed their bodies together from chest to toes.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong, Frank,” Matt said, knowing he’d won. “Why don’t you just stop being an asshole and let me in? Just let somebody in-“

“You want the truth, Red,” Castle interrupted harshly. “Well, here’s the truth.” Frank said, still pressed against Matt.

“I don’t want you, Matthew Murdock,” he drawled, stretching out Matt’s name for as long as he could. “The only person I want to be with is six feet in the ground, next to my little girl and my baby boy. She is the only person I ever wanted and the only person I will ever want again.”

Matt deflated slightly. He went to unwind his arms from around Frank’s neck and as his hands slid off of Frank’s shoulders, Frank stole one of them in his own and placed it back against his chest, over his heart. Matt tried to tug it away but Frank held on.

“And I know that Maria would hate what I do, the man that I’ve become. And that’s something I have to live with. But what I won’t do, is dishonor her memory by sharing my bed with someone as twisted and broken as I am. Maybe even more,” Castle breathed heavily. “Now am I lying, Red?”

Matt tugged at his hands again and Frank held tighter.

“Am I lying, Red?” Frank asked angrily.

Matt tugged harder this time, snatching his hand away from Frank. He had flushed as red as his suit at Frank’s words, equal parts anger and utter humiliation. Matt stepped away from Frank and turned his back to him.

“Get out,” Matt said, his voice only wavering slightly.

Castle nodded once. “Sounds about right,” he muttered.

As Castle stomped toward the rooftop exit, Matt spoke, still declining to face him. “Frank.” He continued once he heard Castle’s footsteps stop. “Life should be for the living. Maybe you should make your choices based on what you need, not what your family would think.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Red,” Frank said as he resumed his trek toward the exit. “And maybe you should take your own advice,” he said as he stood in the doorway, his body half in and half out. “Live your life, Red. And stop chasing after a dead man.”

The door slammed behind him, making Frank’s choice abundantly clear. He wanted out. Out of Matt’s apartment, out of Matt’s life, out of life itself.

And as Matt stood in the middle of his living room, feeling abandoned and alone all over again, somehow, he knew that Frank wouldn’t be back.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i hope i did these characters justice. lmk if you enjoyed it!
> 
> also, i really do suggest listening to these songs. not only are they amazing, they really fit a lot of interpretations of matt and frank’s relationship, especially this one.
> 
> hmu at @maniskordaze on twitter and tumblr!


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